


No Easy Answers

by journeycat



Series: The Cavall Clan [5]
Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Protector of the Small - Tamora Pierce, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Family Drama, Future Fic, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:33:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4777139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeycat/pseuds/journeycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The son of heroes struggles with his shortcomings, and only wishes Wyldon would recognize him as his own person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Easy Answers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for One Night Stand Weekend at Goldenlake in April 2010.

“He hates me.”

Strange, that those three words could inspire so many negative emotions when their opposite— _I love you_ —could inspire so much warmth. It was a cold hand that squeezed her heart as Keladry glanced up and met her son’s pained eyes with her own.

“Cal, that’s a foolish thing to say,” she whispered. “He does not hate you.”

His smile was crooked. “Then how did you know I was talking about Father?”

She had no reply to that, because he knew all she could say: because all Wyldon did was berate him for his undisciplined nature, his immaturity, his lack of self-control. How often did Cavall echo with _Quit picking on your sister_ or _Why can’t you be more like your brother?_ She gently set aside Griffin, forgetting all about the polishing, and gently took his hand in hers.

“I thought that once I tried for my shield, he’d let me be,” Accalon said before she could speak. “But he just got worse. Nothing I do is ever good enough. He ignores milord Ansil’s compliments and just harps on whatever he says I need to improve! I can’t make him happy, Mama, I can’t be as good as him and Lance!”

Cal had not called her mama since he was seven and still clung to her when it stormed outside. At his secretive fourteen years of age, he would not have come to his mother if he wasn’t hurting so deeply inside. Kel smoothed back his hair from his furrowed brow.

“Your father,” she said in a low voice, “does not hate you. No matter what you think or how he acts, he loves you as much as he loves your siblings.”

He only looked away, and said nothing. Kel was at a loss. How could she explain that some people, like Lancelot, could sail through life proudly, easily, while others had to struggle for any advantage they could grasp?

“Wyldon does not show his affection,” she said gently. “It doesn’t come easily for him. It’s easy with Isa, because little girls can be more open with their fathers. It’s easy with Gaheris, because he’s a baby. Lance is old enough now to see how he is, and to work with his attitude. Just give him time, darling. He will see that you are your own person.”

Cal only looked at her with his typical sullen expression, but this time his eyes were sad. And she knew she had not convinced him of anything.

She was worried about his bitter relationship with his father, his jealous, antagonistic relationships with his siblings, and she worried that they will never be repaired.

Most of all, Kel worried about how far Cal would go to escape his brother’s shadow. He had always been stubborn and independent. His childhood was riddled with threats of running away to Carthak or Galla, but he had never made it past the apple tree in Cavall’s orchards.

She didn’t want to know how far he’d flee now.


End file.
